


Anger Incarnate

by shoyousugar



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anger Management, Angst, Character Study, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Sort Of, just a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoyousugar/pseuds/shoyousugar
Summary: Sometimes Yang gets angry, angrier than she should get. And sometimes Blake takes a moment to bring her back down to earth.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Anger Incarnate

_ Badump! Badump! Badump! _

Yang’s heart was racing, blood boiling over as she knocked back the punching bag each time her fist connected with it. Her body was on fire, mind filled with white noise, breathing erratic and tearing what little oxygen was left from her lungs.

It was bullshit. Everything was _unfair bullshit_.

First off, what happened earlier with Robyn. She had played it cool, let her know they weren’t the bad guys here, that there was a greater power at work behind everything happening in Mantle. She believed them, was still sceptical, but she believed them. Thanks to Blake taking the brave plunge and testing Robyn’s semblance. That was all fine, it went exactly as they had planned it.

But that was _their_ plan; _herself_ and _her partner_. The ace-ops weren’t aware of it. So when they said that Robyn had got away, _boy_ did they get an earful about it. Which was totally unfair, she thought, because it was more than just Blake and Yang on that mission. More people could’ve got to their location in moments. Yet Ironwood had given them a stern look and Clover had shook his head in disappointment.

Usually she wouldn’t let it get to her, but she and Blake had been dismissed for the rest of the evening. So without a whole lot to keep her mind preoccupied, she kept feeling. Feeling, and _feeling_ , and ** _feeling_** , until those feelings became too much and she wanted to break something. Until she wanted something to knock her out of this mindset.

She had tried to lie in the dorm room, but her body squirmed every few moments. Toes curling until they cracked, neck stretching until the muscles were strained and tired. Her breathing had started to become erratic then, chest heaving as she attempted to slow down, hands gripping at the sheets then laying flat against them. She watched as it sunk with her weight, observing and learning. Yet her mind didn’t process anything.

Blake had raised an inquisitive brow at her, a silent question of ‘ _is everything alright?_ ’ Yang nodded and left the room, excusing herself to go to the gym.

_ Badump! Badump! Badump! _

Then here she was, heart pounding against her chest to the point where she wanted to tear it out and stamp on it until it would stop making that _sound_. Grind her foot into it until it made the blood that settled under her skin stop pounding, racing by like the rest of the world, as if there was a finish line. Only to be disappointed when it went around again. Rushing like she was in a hurry to grow up when all she wanted was to go back to when she was seventeen and tell herself to stop being _so stupid_ all the time-

The punching bag snapped off of the ceiling, clunking down onto the floor and laying there. Lifeless and unanimated, exhausted from the brutal beating Yang had been giving it. The knuckles on her biological arm stung, the skin red raw, painful but not agonising, not enough to settle her.

There was a mirror in the room, the height and length of the wall, a wooden bar across it for people to hold onto. It was for watching your own form, scrutinising your own image. Which was what Yang was doing now. She hated the image of herself, furious in a dark empty room. Enraged by herself and nothing else. Sweat soaked her hair, dripping down her face and soaking the atlas t-shirt she wore. And her eyes... she _hated_ them. That vibrant red, the same as Raven’s. She wanted them to change back so she could finally be content.

But the more she looked at herself, at that all consuming shade of red. It felt like the only colour in the monochromatic room. She hated it so much, because it just reminded her that her mother didn’t want her. Didn’t need her. Was willing to let her die, let her take that relic as a sign that she didn’t care. She raised her fist to throw another punch, but stopped herself quickly when the door slid open.

“Hey, are you done... yet,” Blake’s voice rang out, the pause in the middle of her sentence showing that she had caught on already. Yang turned away, walking a little further into the room. “Yeah... yeah just about,” she said, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. There was a gentle padding of feet across the floor and Yang was instinctively moving away. She didn’t want to bother Blake with this, it was a stupid problem.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asks, tone as gentle as the way her feet hit the ground with each step. Yang shakes her head, feeling dizzy, like there’s an entire city sitting on top of her that she needs to hold up. She comes to rest herself against one of the pillars, forehead leaning on the cool marble, eyes closed yet all she can see is still red. “Nothing... just give me a minute, _please_.” She begs.

Then suddenly there’s another weight, gently pushing against her back. But it wasn’t pressurising, it was soft and warm, and she perfectly melted into it. Two arms circled her waist, keeping her grounded before the way she felt made her climb the walls. There was a soft sigh upon her back as Blake just held her, giving her a minute as she had asked. Blake gave her back a small nuzzle to show that this was real, she was here.

“I’m just... _so angry_... all the time,” Yang spoke through gritted teeth, a sudden surge of pure rage shooting through her as she remembered what she had been angry at in the first place. “And there’s _so much_ pressure, because I’m expected to save all those people...”

Blake nodded against her back, understanding. Her hands slid from around her waist to Yang’s arms, holding her wrists, thumb circling to find her pulse. “It’s alright to be angry, because eventually, you calm down,” Blake said softly. “And you’re not alone, stop putting it all on yourself.” Blake’s hands slipped into Yang’s pulling her back until she turned to see where she was going.

She sat down on one of the small wooden benches, Blake remaining standing behind her. She faced the mirror, seeing the red beginning to fade and her breathing started to even out. That throbbing feeling in her body beginning to appear as she realised that she was tired. She she looked up slightly in the mirror towards Blake, who had her lips pursed, debating on whether she should say something or stay quiet. Yang smiled softly and gently squeezed her hand. She was grateful that she was here to give her a few words of affirmation.

“Sometimes it just feels like too much, like the whole of Remnant’s on my shoulders.” Blake hummed, hands sliding onto her shoulders. “And what great shoulders they are.” They both giggled, Blake slightly blushing from her own comment. Yang would have as well if she had the mental capacity to do so right now.

“You are right though, sometimes it does feel like that. It’s the life we chose to lead.” Blake sighed, her thumbs kneading into the tightened muscles on Yang’s shoulders. “But I think I’d rather go through all of that pain, all of that stress than be anywhere else. Because I’d rather be here with you, and everyone else, doing this together.”

Yang nodded, agreeing, because how could she disagree with that. But there were so many variables of this for her, because it was more than just a job to her. And sometimes she felt selfish for viewing it as such. “That’s true, but I still feel like I need to protect everyone,” she said. Blake frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “Can I tell you what I think?” She asked and Yang nodded at her.

“I think you’ve spent your _entire life_ protecting people, so much so that you’ve forgotten that all of that responsibility doesn’t fall only to you,” Blake recited, a line too practiced for this to have been the first time she’s thought about it. “You’re strong, stronger than most of us. But you don’t _always_ have to be. Sometimes you need to take a break, let your guard down a little.”

Yang hummed. She was right. “But when could I ever do that?” She questioned, silently enjoying that feeling of Blake’s fingers weaving through the hair on back of her neck. “You’re doing it now,” Blake says, a soft smirk on her face. Yang had to bite back the smile that threatened to bloom, not willing to give her the satisfaction because of how smug she sounded. They both knew Blake was right though.

Yang smirked, deciding she would turn the tables on this. “You must think about me a lot,” she said and Blake blushed. Head turning away as she pouted, ears pinning back in embarrassment. Blake muttered, “Shut up.”

She let herself lean back into Blake, resting the back of her head against her abdomen. She tilted her chin to look up at her, smiling again. “Thank you for saying all that... and for being here,” she said and watched as Blake smiled back at her, one hand mindlessly tracing the muscle on Yang’s neck that was straining as she looked up at her. 

Yang thought of thanking her for a lot of other things. Thank you for coming back and proving me wrong, that not everyone leaves forever. Thank you for being there for me as much as I’m there for you. _Thank you so much_ for trusting _me_ and letting _me_ into your life...

“Your welcome... and I’m not going anywhere.” They both knew that. Yang thought of asking her to stay forever, but that was a conversation for another time. They both realised they had been staring at each other for longer than a normal person should and began to pull back away from one another. Blake cleared her throat, holding her bicep with her hand. “A-Anyways, I was going to ask if you were finished so we could get dinner,” Blake said, ears twitching atop her head from her nerves.

“Y-Yeah... _yes_! Let’s go do that!” Yang said awkwardly, half smiling as she snapped her fingers at Blake. They laughed slightly at each other, the nervousness fading when they realised there was no reason to be. Blake began to walk towards the door, Yang following behind her.

She took one final glance in the mirror and realised she wasn’t angry anymore. Her heart still raced, blood rushing, but it was for a better reason. One that she could never be angry at. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I wrote this in less than a few hours. 
> 
> Idk if I’ve really saw this before, but in canon I get the idea that Yang does have anger issues that go pretty hand in hand with her semblance. And she’s just a character I can really relate with on a personal level. So I decided to kind of explore that.


End file.
